


We've Got Tonight

by CSM



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Bratva, F/M, Humour, olicity valentine smut a thon 2017, porn with a kinda plot, post 5x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9767996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSM/pseuds/CSM
Summary: Based off of 5x12 Bratva episodes. Later that night, she crawls into his bed, and whispers “Can you give me this one night, Oliver?” But then he looks at her clear blue eyes, that are pleading with him, and he knows that he’ll do anything she asks of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Aka what I wish would have happen. Susan also does not exist in this fic.
> 
> AN: This fic is for the Olicity Valentine smut a thon my prompt was “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

They make their way back to the secret ARGUS house, Rory and Curtis are singing like two drunk merry men and Oliver looks across at Diggle both of them exchanging a small smile of amusement. Dinah comes into view her eyes trained on the two drunk men who are walking into the house or at least trying to. They both stop to bow at the large fern that’s standing next to the front door.

“I’ll keep an eye on Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, tonight.” Dinah says with a dry tone, her eyes trained on both men. Things are still so new with her and the team but Oliver is glad that not only she gets along with everyone on the team, but they have already starting looking out for each other. It makes him feel like he’s done something right for a change.”I suspect you have your own problems to deal with.”

At her comment Oliver frowns, both he and Diggle turn their heads to the right, and sure enough there is Felicity currently swirling in the spot arms raised in the air as she dances to the beat of her own song.

The corner of Oliver’s lips tick up in amusement, the fact that she’s dancing gives him a big clue to her level of drunkenness. She’s at that happy medium where her body is light as a feather and everything seems blissful but she’s still aware of herself and more importantly her surroundings, not that the team would let anything happen to her. Oliver is very familiar with this Felicity, his smile doesn’t go unnoticed by either Diggle or Dinah cause Diggle only rolls his eyes in response.

“She did say you would deal with her.” Dinah says in amusement, it’s the first time Oliver has ever seen the woman smile so brightly, “Well she didn’t say that exactly. She said ‘Oliver would put me to bed’.”

At her words Oliver’s ears pink up, and he tears his gaze away from Felicity to look at the other woman, who is now outright smirking at Oliver, “The moment I met her, I knew there was a story there. You’ll have to tell me about it one day, for now you’ve got other concerns...why is she sitting on the cold wet floor?”

Oliver whips around and sure enough, Felicity is sitting on cold gravel, brushing away the dirt on her grey coat, “Crap, she’s gonna fall asleep on the ground.”

He can hear Dinah protesting at the notion, but her protest die on her lips when she sees Felicity lean forward on her knees looking very much like she’s actually getting comfortable. Oliver shakes his head, taking two quick strides and hooks his hands under her armpits pulling her to her feet with little protests from his sleepy drunken blonde.

“Hey, let’s get you inside.” Oliver whispers softly, hand sliding to her waist to steady her, but Felicity seems to not care that for the space that he’s putting between them and she practically curls around him, her hands wrapping around his waist.  
“You’re very pretty, Oliver.” Felicity declares loudly, her face smushed against his chest.

“Oliver.” Diggles calls out with a warning tone, “Maybe I should take her.”

“Hey! It’s my diggle-nator!” Felicity says with delight and Oliver has to grab hold of her waist when she almost tips forward to look around Oliver to see Diggle.

This time his brother does crack a smile, greeting Felicity warmly. Diggle then turns to Oliver, his face sobering, “Be careful.”

The warning is clear as day, and Oliver knows he’s not talking about getting Felicity safely to bed. Diggle unfortunately knows how handsy Felicity can get when tipsy, handsy with Oliver that is. Oliver gives Diggle a hard look, “Nothing is going to happen.”

Diggle only nods and walks off following Dinah into the house. With a sigh Oliver looks down at Felicity who is still curled around him, her face pressed against his chest. Her eyes are fluttering close, her glasses slightly skewed as she has her face pressed up against him.

“C’mon. Time for you to go to….to sleep.” Oliver says softly correcting himself, knowing from experience Felicity brain to mouth filter is even worse when she’s drunk.

He has to might the inside of his cheek to stop himself from asking her what’s been going on with her lately, not wanting to take advantage of her like that. Even though a small part of him thinks his worry is warranted that he should ask her what’s going on.

“Hey Oliver?” Felicity calls out in a stage whisper which is more like she's shouting in his ear as they make the trek up the stairs to the bedrooms. He can hear soft murmurs coming from the kitchen and he hopes that Dinah and John are trying to sober up the other two. He looks down at her his features softening when he sees her hooded eyes and the small smile on her lips, “you’re pretty.”

This time Oliver doesn’t hold back his laughter, he tighten his grip around her waist when she misses one of the steps, she only giggles in return, her fingers curling around his jacket. She looks up at him, her eyes are wide in surprise, her teeth sinking into her red lip. “You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks pinken, but he’s not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or his words.

But her attention span is lacking when she’s this inhibited and she leans forward nose pressed against his t-shirt and she sniffs him. “You still smell good.”

“Thanks.” Oliver says with a little laugh ushering her towards her room.

Once they step into the small room, Felicity goes tumbling onto the bed, much to Oliver’s dismay, he knew he shouldn’t have let her go the moment they entered her bedroom. She turns around so she’s smiling up at thim, looking at him through hooded eyes and Oliver knows he needs to get out here as fast as possible. He moves towards her hoping to help her out of her boots, so that when she inevitably falls asleep, she would at least be comfortable.

“I really like how you smell.” Apparently she’s still fixated on how he smells, Felicity surprises him though, with her next words so much so he almost drops her foot. “When we first broke up I use to sleep in an old t-shirt of yours I found in the closet.”

She whispers it softly, her voice timid as she confesses her secret and Oliver’s heart clenches. He doesn’t know what to say to that, does he tell her that he stole one of her throw over blankets because it smelt like her, and even after it stopped smelling like her, he still uses it?

He’s unsure how much he should say, despite her inhibited state, Felicity remembers everything when she was drunk. She jokingly called it her superpower, but a small irrational part of Oliver think it’s true.

“I refused to sleep on your side of the bed too.” She confesses in a small voice just as her second boot drops to the floor. However, she doesn’t stay at the foot of the bed, instead she crawls to the head of the unmade bed and grabs her blankets that have been tossed to the side, like she always use to do when they were together.

“Sometimes, I just really miss you.” Felicity’s voice is meek but heavy with sleep and Oliver knows that she is well on her way to slumber now. His heart still in his throat at her words. He leans over her to slip off her glasses, and he can’t help but smile sadly at her.

Her eyes are already shut when he presses his lips gently against hers knowing she's already off to slumber, “I’ll never stop missing you.”

She hums softly, and she burrows deep into her blankets and Oliver has to forcibly tear his gaze away from her, making himself leave before he does something he regrets. He stands at the doorway, watching her sleep for a few minutes, but then catches himself and slowly walks away after he closes the door.

Her words still echo in his mind as he slips into his own warm bed. He’s just about to drift off to sleep with his usual thoughts fill of a specific bespectacled blonde, when the soft thump of his bedroom door puts him on high alert.

Oliver barely has time to open his eyes, before the object of his dreams tumbles into his bed, crawling towards him. Small arms wrap around his torso, while all too familiar ice cold feet sleep between his calves.

“Felicity, what are you doing?” Oliver calls out in a strangled voice, his arms like dead weights at his side. His body unable to process what is going on.

“Why is it so cold in Russia?” Felicity grumbles sleepily as she burrows further into Oliver’s arms, unfazed by how rigid Oliver’s entire body is.

Her cold toes move up along his calf, as she tries to warm them up. It’s something she always use to do when they were dating. Her tone tells Oliver that she’s still very much drunk, just more sleep laden now. Either way Oliver knows this is a terrible idea, his body is already reacting strongly to the feel of Felicity’s warm soft body against him, and he needs to get her out of his bed and back into her own before she notices.

“Felicity, don’t you think you should go back to your bed?” Oliver suggests, trying not to sound like he wants to get rid of her, but at the same time knowing she would not be pleased if she woke up in his bed in the morning.

A strong part of Oliver doesn’t want to have to deal with that kind of rejection in the morning either.

“You promised you would always keep my feet warm.” Felicity counters, he can barely make out her blue of her irises as she stares back at him, her chin resting on his shoulder.

She’s talking about a cold winter night almost exactly a year ago, she’d fallen asleep on the couch due to the numerous pain killers and woke up to Oliver rubbing the soles of her feet, not just to keep the circulation like Paul instructed cause he knew she always got cold feet late at night. They had spent that night on their couch in front of the fireplace talking about any and everything, making promises for their future.

Oliver sighs inwardly, knowing he’s going to regret this in the morning, but he also knows he can’t say no to her, “You’re right.”

“You’ve always been hot.” Felicity says matter-of-factly, as she moves closer to him her feet nestled between his calves as she rubs them continuously, to warm them up, unaware that her movements has Oliver’s blood heading a few inches north to her feet.“I mean hot, hot...not sexy hot...you’re that too, but you knew that already.”

Oliver only grins in response, knowing that he shouldn’t encourage her drunk babbles, but enjoying them nonetheless. Her babbles also offers up a good distraction from the feel of her soft curves pressed against him. He can feel the soft curve of her breast under the thin material of her shirt, her nipples are firm from the cold, but Oliver’s is acutely aware of them pressing against his stomach as she curls her body around him. Her knee slipping between his thighs, and he has to hold his breath for a brief second afraid she’ll realized his body’s reaction her.

“You know, I’m a big fan of the arrows...number one fan I’m sure.” Felicity rambles on, completely unaware of Oliver’s inner turmoil. Her lips are wet, and rub against his chest as she talks, her head is no tucked under Oliver’s chin. “But you really know how to handle a gun.”

Oliver chokes as her words, not expecting her rambles to take such a drastic suggestive tone. Alarm bells immediately go off in his mind, but despite his better judgement he ignores the rational part of his brain, and moves his arm down to wrap around Felicity. His fingers move along the flimsy material of her sleep top and rubs small circles along her back. Felicity practically purrs against him, knees shifting once again.

“Yea?” Oliver offers, he tries to sound nonchalant, but his body betrays him and he practically croaks out the world, obviously more affected by her that he originally thought. Only this woman could revert him back to a blubbering teenage boy, and she doesn’t even have to try.

“Oh yea.” Felicity moans off softly in delight, her fingers brush lightly against his bratva tattoo, rubbing the rough contours. “I don’t know why you chose the arrows-they are hot by the way- but guns seem more practical you know?”

“Maybe.” Oliver says with amusement, he has no clue if there is a point to these rambles of hers, but he’s enjoying them nonetheless, even more so her wandering hand that seems fascinated with his bratva tattoo.

“Anyway...the guns, if you chose that instead when you first came back to Starling City, you could have gone by the Lone Gunman.”

She then giggles at her one joke and Oliver finds himself smiling in return, “I’ll consider it for my next life.”

“That’s a good plan.” Felicity declares seriously, unable to detect that Oliver was only teasing her.

Felicity lets out a little giggle again, at what Oliver in unsure. She yawns loudly, arms tightening around him as she tries to burrow further into his warmth. “You’re so toasty. I missed how toasty you are.”

He wants to make a teasing comment asking her not to eat him, but he fears that it would be too suggestive and he feels like he’s walking on thin ice at it is and he’s just waiting for something to go wrong. Felicity’s knees bend as she tries slip her legs further between his, and the moment her knees rub against his growing erection, Oliver freezes knowing that the little moment they shared is now broken.

Felicity though only giggles in response and presses her knee up against his erection again, “Why Mr. Queen, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”  
Oliver chokes at her words, but Felicity bursts into a fit of giggles, her palm flat against his chest and she raises her head to look at him. Her pupils are dilated no doubt from the alcohol, but she doesn’t seem as a inhibited as she was before, she seems more focused than she was when he had put her to bed. “I always wanted to say that.”

She bursts out into laughter again, her hand slapping against his chest, her knee rubbing against his erection and this time Oliver knows it wasn’t by accident this time. When she squeezes his thigh Oliver lets out a strangled cry and tries to pulls away from her, “Felicity.”

His voice is strained, but his warning is clear. She can’t do this to him, he has so little willpower when it comes to her, and she knows that.

“You’re so tense.” Felicity says with a sigh. Her finger begin to dance along his leg, moving closer and closer to his erection, but not quite touching him.

“Felicity, please.” Oliver practically begs he’s unsure if he’s begging her to continue or to stop.

Her nails drag across Oliver’s torso and he hisses in response, his hand latches onto her wrist stopping her. He can’t do this, not with her still slightly drunk. Felicity brow furrows as she looks at his strangled expression, she then surprises him when she picks herself up off the bed and walks out the room.

Oliver is left with the worst case of blue balls of his life, but he only feels like the shittiest person in the world. He’s so busy with his self deprecating thoughts, he doesn’t hear the door to his bedroom until Felicity comes bounding back in this time a familiar bottle of vodka and two shot glasses.

“Apparently once in Russia one must do as the Russians do...or at least the last ARGUS agents that were here did that.” She says taking a seat next to him and folding her legs so that the bottle is cradle against her chest.

She places the shot glasses on Oliver’s bare chest, using it as a table. She ignores his confused expression and pours a liberal amount of vodka into each glass, some of it falling onto his chest making him hiss as the cold liquid touches his skin.

“Felicity.” Oliver voice is lower and full of warning.

“C’mon, I always wanted to share a shot of your famous russian vodka with you.” Felicity says holding out a shot glass to him, her own shot glass pressed to her lips, she’s swaying slightly, the vodka jostling in her glass “Isn’t there some kind of bratva rule that you can’t leave a brother hanging?”

Oliver rises to a sitting position still eying the shot glass warily, but despite his better judgement takes it from her, “You are not my brother, Felicity.”

“Well duh, wrong country.” Felicity teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “we’d probably get arrested for all the things we did if I was your brother...or well sister if we want to be technical.”

Oliver grimaces at her words, “How about we never talk about the two of us being related like that?”

Felicity only giggles in return and holds up the glass to him, sobering slightly, “Let’s just have tonight? Just the two of us, in this room, in this moment?”

With those words all his resolve is gone and he knocks his glass gently against hers. Felicity smiles widely in return, hitting her glass against his again, spilling some of the vodka onto the sheets, “Pocahontas!”

Oliver almost chokes on the vodka when she says that, “Prochnost.”

“Oh right.” Felicity says with a giggle, she grabs the bottle of vodka and pours herself another shot, she then move to Oliver’s empty shot glass “One more, so I can get it right?”

Oliver goes to protest, but realizes it’s futile as his shot glass is already full, he finds himself toasting along with her yet again. This time they both whisper the proper word, Felicity’s russian slightly butchered and when they shot back their glasses, once again Felicity’s eyes water as the liquid burns down her throat.

“I think that’s enough vodka for you.” Oliver decides taking the bottle from her along with the shot glass and leaning over the bed to deposit the bottle along with the shot glasses out of reach.

Felicity rubs her chest, wincing slightly, “I thought it would be sexy...you know like with the tequila in the south of France. It would be fun and sexy, but that stuff feels like it would burn a hole through my esophagus...decidingly very unsexy.”

Oliver heart clenches at her words as he tries to block out his memories of them in a small cottage in the south of France as they explored each other's bodies over a bottle of tequila, he licks his lips nervously almost afraid to voice his concern, “when did you plan the...what are you saying?”

“When you kissed me goodnight, I felt something, something I haven't felt in a really long time.” Felicity confesses softly, her eyes never leaving Oliver’s “and I realize I didn't want it to stop. I want to feel more. This past year so much has happened I've just been going through the motions feeling so empty, but then you kissed me and it was like I remembered what it was like to feel something again and I didn't want to let that go. I need to feel something, Oliver even if is just for one night. I just need to remember what it's like to feel again. Can you do that for me?”

Oliver throats constricts at her words, she is able to say so much but still be so vague about what she needs.

She moves towards him crawling into his lap, her knees pressed against his hips, her ass nestled onto his legs. Her hands are at her sides, and she doesn't move to touch him. Oliver’s own arms at lip at his side.

“Can you give me this one night, Oliver?” She practically begs him.

How does he tell her he doesn't think he can have her once and then expected to let her go. It was so hard to let her go the first time, he doesn't think he can do it again.

But then he looks at her clear blue eyes, that are pleading with him, and he knows that he’ll do anything she asks of him.

He moves his hands to her face and kisses her soundly. She tastes like vodka with a hint cherries and he briefly wonders what else she had drank that night.

His hands move to the back of her head, tangling in her blonde locks as she deepens the kiss, her tongue slipping between his lips, her fingers dragging at his jawbone.

His entire body heats up, the familiar feel of her wet lips, her soft curves pressing into him.

It's like coming up for fresh air, he’d been drowning the past 11 months and now he can finally breathe.

Neither of them seem to be in any hurry. Instead they just kiss lazily, alternating between soft and slow, hard and eager. Felicity’s body rocks against him with each kiss, her hips pressed against his.

He hisses when he feels her wet core press against his straining erection.

Felicity pulls back and smiles at him, her pupils are blown but clear as day as they twinkle down at him, her face full of mischief.

He misses this. He misses them.

He misses laughing that smile of hers that she only has for him. He misses laughing with her. It's so much more than the sex, he misses it all.

Felicity seems to have realized that he's lost in his world cause she tips his chin up with her fingertips and smiles at him. She presses a chaste kiss to his lips, smile blossoming when he grunts disapprovingly when it ends so quickly.

Instead she arches her back and grips the edges of her sleep top pulling it up and over her head tossing it to the side.

This time when Oliver lets out a deep groan it's one of appreciation. His hands automatically find her hips and he pulls her even closer to him.

Felicity releases a soft squeak in surprise not expecting him to move so swiftly.

He lowers his mouth to her neck lightly brushing his stubble against her sensitive skin knowing how much she likes that. Sure enough Felicity purrs against him, her hips rocking slowly languidly against his.

Oliver moves his hands to her back, his fingers tracing the rough contours of her surgery scars. Her once flawless back now has number of scars scattered the base of her spine.

It took a lot of coaxing from him and for her to get over her own inner demons before she started to refer her scars as battle wounds.

Despite the fact that he hates the cause of the scars he still remembers in amusement how happy she was that they had matching scars now.

Felicity’s ability to turn just about anything into positivity is one of the many reasons he loves.

Oliver gasps loudly when Felicity’s teeth nip at his neck. Teeth sinking into his flesh and her wet tongue soon follows to sooth the small ache. Oliver’s entire body tensing at her ministrations.

“Stop brooding.” She whispers against his ear, teeth tugging gently at his earlobe,

She knows fully well how sensitive his ears are and when she blows lightly at the wet skin Oliver hisses, loudly at that, his fingers digging into hips.

He moves his hands up her back and tugs gently on her hair bringing her lips back to his and they meet for a scorching kiss.

Felicity rocks against him, gently nudging him so that he can lie back, her elbows are on either side of his face as she hovers over him, her heated core pressing against his straining erection.

He uses her new position to his advantage and raises his head slightly so that his lips can wrap around her breast that is swaying enticingly in front of his, practically begging him to suck it.

“Fuck.” Felicity hiss loudly her hands are resting on his shoulders, bracing herself as he takes in as much of her nipple as he can and sucks down hard.

Felicity isn't the only one that remembers what makes the other come undone. Oliver releases her nipple with an audible pop, but before she can protest he sinks his teeth down into the wet, pink nub and Felicity yelps out in surprise. Her knees that are around his torso tightening as hips begin to pick up speed.

“Oh god, Oliver.” She moans out, much more louder than she should given the fact that they are sharing a house with the rest of the team. But neither of them seem to care to wrapped up in each other.

Oliver’s hands that have been resting on her waist slide under the loose waist band of her sleep shorts, hands massaging her ass encouraging her to press more firmly down on him.

“Too much clothes.” He pants out against her wet skin.

Felicity rises on her knees moving off of him and swiftly rids herself of both her shorts and underwear, when Oliver just stares numbly at her naked form -it's been so long- Felicity only rolls her eyes with a small huff. She grabs the waistband of his sweats, slapping his bare stomach when Oliver still lays frozen on the bed panting loudly. He finally gets what's she's trying to do and raises his hips allowing her to pull off his sweats.

With all their clothes in a tangled heap on the floor Felicity resumes her previous position to straddle him, Oliver seems to have come to his senses and he grabs her by the waist flipping them so that he's hovering over her.

Her protests dies on her lips when Oliver spreads her legs and his tongue presses against her wet folds. He moves his tongue lazily against her folds, barely putting any pressure against and she whines in protests, the heel of her foot digs into his back, her fingers tugging at his hair. Her hips raise up as she tries meet his tongue, she practically keens his name begging him for more.

“Oliver, please.” She pleads.  
He presses his tongue firmly against her clit and she hisses, her fingers tugging at his hair forcibly. He swipes against her folds, once, twice and he can feel her legs tense, her hips are moving at an erratic pace, she’s chasing that release and he knows she’s close.

He presses down firmly against her clit, just as he slips his fingers between her folds and she gasps out his name as she explodes around him. When he pulls back, his beard is wet, dripping with her juices as he looks down at her. She’s spread out on the bed, her foot still hooked over his shoulder, her entire body red, a small sheen of sweat gathered between her heaving breast.

“God I missed that.” Felicity gasps out, her hand going to her forehead.

Oliver only smirks at the implications of her words, he doesn’t dare voice his astute observation at her remark and she still recovering from her orgasm to notice his self satisfied smirk.

Or at least he thinks she’s recovering, because one moment he’s looking down at her panting form and next thing Felicity wraps her legs around his waist and she flips them over, catching Oliver by surprise when she pushes him down on the bed, straddling him.

Her still wet core rubs against his torso, her hands are splayed across his chest as she begins to rock her hips rubbing against him, his erection slips between her ass cheeks and Oliver hisses.

“Felicity. Oh god.”

Now he’s the one begging, pleading her to move a little lower, so that he can slip between her folds. She inches back, so that she’s perched on his thighs, legs spread and he groans at the sight of her glistening sex.

Felicity grasps his cock, her nimble fingers working against his firm skin, thumb pressing over the small bit of pre-cum at the tip. He growls when she raises her thumb to her lips and sucks the pre-cum off clear.

She starts to scoot further down his legs, but Oliver squeezes her hips, stopping her. When she looks at him curiously he shakes his head in the negative. “I wanna come inside of you.”

Felicity growls at that, he remembers how much she loved to go down him, that it use to turn her on as much as it turned him on.

Felicity grasps his cocks and slowly lowers herself onto him, they both hiss in unison as their bodies connect. Their eyes meet and for the first time in almost a year, Oliver feels at home.

He can see the rainbow of emotions that cross Felicity’s face as she remains still over him, her nails digging into his chest. He raises his hips slightly and the movement seems to pull her out of the thoughts and she slowly begins to move her hips in time with him, her eyes never leaving his.

“Oh god.” She gasps out, as she clenches around him and Oliver knows that he’s not going to last as long as he would like.

He grasps her hips and tugs her down meeting her for a scorching kiss, their moans are muffled by the sounds of the bare skin hitting against each other as their hips collide.

“Oliver.” Felicity gasps out, her eyes are trained on him and all he sees is raw emotion, unadulterated love in her eyes and he knows the same emotions are reflected in his own eyes.

There is so much he wants to say, so much he should tell, but he finds himself unable to form the words. He cups her face, brushing the stray tear that rolls down her cheek, and he whispers softly against her swollen lips, “let go.”

She releases a strangled gasp as she comes undone, the rhythmic clenches around his around his cock sends him over the edge a few seconds later and Felicity collapses against his chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck as she clings to him.

Neither of them say anything and as Oliver slips out, Felicity only wraps her arms around him, clinging to him further. She clearly has no intention of leaving the cocoon of his body and Oliver is not ready to let her go either. Just as they both succumb to sleep there is only one thing that Oliver is certain about and that is he can’t give her just one night.

 

 

 

 


End file.
